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The Golden Bird by Maria Thompson Daviess
page 57 of 155 (36%)
in chickens any higher than a hen can fly. I'm growing heady over this
business and must go back to town to set the wheels in motion. All of you
ride down to the gate with me and find out what the word jolt means."

Then after housing the Bird family in the feed-room with their guest, all
happily at scratch in the hay for the wheat and corn thrown to them by the
Corn-tassels while Matthew and I went in to bid the paternal twins good-by,
we all rode merrily and joltily down the long avenue under the old elms to
the big gate at the square in Riverfield. In front of the
post-office-bank-grocery emporium we deposited the Corn-tassels, introduced
Matthew to Aunt Mary and Uncle Silas, with the most cordial results on both
sides, and then turned in the car out the Riverfield ribbon instead of in.

"Just a spin will do you good, sweet thing," said Matthew, as I settled
down close enough to his shoulder to talk and not interrupt the powerful
engine. "I want you to myself for a small moment away from your live stock,
human and inhuman."

"Oh, Matt, there is nobody just like you and you have made this
day--possible," I said as I snuggled down into the soft cushions.

"Honestly, Ann, do you mean positively that you don't want me--now?" he
asked me as he sent the car whirling into the sun setting over Old Harpeth.

"Not--now," I answered bravely, though I nestled a little closer to him. He
seemed so good and strong and--certain.

"All right then, I'll take the next best and I'll come in to your farm
circle as partner or competitor or any old thing that keeps me in your
aura. I'll grow chickens with the Corn-tassels or--here we turn back for I
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